11. Abingdon with a hangover on a hot day, Saturday 6th July 2002

I managed to get myself monumentally shitfaced on the preceding Friday evening with the punters from Elsevier and felt like death, yet I still managed a good enough crawl with Dave Wacey and others on the following day. Meeting at 2pm, I found that I had left the house without keys and wallet, so went back for them and the crawl kicked off at 2.30. We cycled across the fields to South Hinksey and encountered the General Elliot which, though a nice pub, had only Morells Oxford Blue on at the time so we decided to shandy it. I felt like I was going to die in the beer garden near the Aunt Sally pitch. After leaving such a place we cycled up the shit that is Hinksey Hill to the Flowing Well at Sunningwell, where we had some Adnam’s [or was it Greene King IPA?] in preference to Abbot. This pub has been fucked up since our last visit - the interior is pine, it is too foody and too family for my tastes [though a good place to wean young drinkers] and the bar staff are surly. Not pleasant, though they haven't rogered the beer garden yet.

After traversing some fields via a nice track, we arrived at the Bystander [Hungry Horse] at Wootton, which had a couple of giant England flags over the pub and an extensive garden. I think we had pints of Ruddles in here, and by the time I had consumed that I was well enough for solids from the chip shop over the road [fine cod roe and chips]. The time was now half 5 ish, so I rang Dr Nick Gardiner to arrange a rendezvous later in the evening. In the meantime me and Dave gently approached Eaton, where we found the Eight Bells serving Abbot and IPA. We waited outside for it to open, and were pleased with the decor and Man City coloured toilets. The ales were reasonable, but the venue is superb. A nice looking young lass entered whom we assumed was a food wench, but we had to head up the road to Appleton where Dr Gardiner had informed us of his arrival. Appleton has two pubs, and the first we saw was the Thatched Tavern, a very ordinary one where ordinary Brakespeare is available. A ridiculous car was noted in the carp ark which had some sort of dickheaded streamlining making it useless for speed humps. Up the road was the Plough at Appleton where we had some Greene King Mild in the company of some old fuckers. Quite a good pub though, with outside toilets and a fine bar and garden. Real pork scratchings too!

Pressing on, I got a puncture through some woods, but managed to limp my bike to the Merry Miller at Cothill where we had very expensive pints of Everards Tiger at 2.60 each and where food was served by moonfaced Aussie beer maidens. Not an enjoyable place. Just before leaving, Dr Robert Simpson intercepted up and we four travelled to the Black Horse at Gozzards Ford for some Archers Golden, though other reasonably interesting ales were also possible. The bar on this occasion was populated by fat buggers who had obviously been ordering many burgers as the whole pub honked of cooking fat. The time now was about 10.40 so we decided to make haste to the Prince of Wales in Shippon. Average beers and Guinnesses were ordered, topped off by pork scratchings, but strangely the locals were still being served, so we carried on with another pint eventually leaving at 12.25 [with a couple of take-outs in hand].

We cycled on some fine roads via Sunningwell, where we contemplated using the Flowing Well's beer garden as a site to consume our takeout Buds, but thought better of it so eventually collapsed at Sandford lock to drain them. Once this task had been complete, Dave went over the lock and promptly had an accident with a fence, whilst Nick, Rob and I decided to ignore the footpath closed sign and traipse along the river bank. The sign was there for a reason - the bridge was closed - but fortunately some kindly vandals had cut the chicken wire so we managed to sneak across, oh dear.

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Dan Lovegrove
dan@doctor-lovegrove.com

Last updated 26th July 2002.